Gates
by Mad-like
Summary: Short, angsty tale prompted by "And There Will Be Cake" by WildFire280 - Chapter 4 Maybe I'm Amazed specifically. Strongly suggest you read that if you haven't yet. Part one of four.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer goes here - blah, blah, blah

Prompt - And_There_Will_Be_Cake (wildfire280) - Chapter 4. I'm not much of a Finn/Mercedes fan but if anybody can sell that combination wildfire280 can. Why did Wildfire have to be such a good writer? This story was prompted by chapter 4 of that story – Maybe I'm Amazed – which you ought to read if you haven't yet.

* * *

He'd noticed her before, a solitary figure sitting on the stone bench under the willow tree at the top of the hill. He'd noticed her because visiting a cemetery every day was usually a sign of fresh grief, grief which hasn't scabbed over. And that was odd because there hadn't been a burial in that section for months. He'd noted that one odd thing and ignored everything else about her.

Today Evans had a different reason for noticing her, she was interrupting his schedule. Unless there was a funeral, his routine was to mow the grounds on Tuesday and Friday. He started at the pond on the bottom of the hill and worked his way up. Then a shower and lunch. That leaves most of the afternoon free until it's time to lock up. Normally she's gone by 10:30 but today she's still there at 11. There's no deadline, he can cut the grass after lunch, but he feels better when things done in a particular order.

He looked at the woman sitting on the bench, she's black he noticed for the first time, and then at the black cat sitting in the air-conditioned truck beside him. "Early lunch, Mrs. Peel?"

* * *

After a while she stopped coming every day but she seemed to be on a schedule too. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday for two weeks, then Tuesday and Thursday for two weeks, then Wednesday. She usually came early in the mornings, once she was waiting at the gate for him to open. She smiled and waved and only stayed for 10 minutes but she spoke to him for the first time, thanking him for noticing her and opening the gates early.

* * *

Funerals threw him off schedule. There's extra work to do - holes to dig, chairs to set up, mourners to deal with. Dealing with people is his least favorite thing but luckily nobody notices the groundskeeper. He was wearing a freshly laundered uniform out of respect for the deceased, standing a discreet distance away, waiting for this funeral to end so he can finish the burial. Looking around he can understand why plots up here on the hill go for more, though he prefers the pond section. The pond is quiet and secluded and he can pretend he's home. Up here on the hill there's a view which reminds him he's in LA.

He looks over at the willow tree and there's a white couple there today. The man is tall and he's placing a balloon on a grave. The woman with him is sitting where the black woman usually sits. Sam looked back at the funeral, noticing the mourners at the back of the crowd were distracted by the couple under the tree. The man is waving the balloon around, the woman is pleading with him. Sam wandered over, curious about what was going on.

"I can't believe she did this!" The man said angrily. "Yes I can. Just like her to do something this inappropriate."

"Finn," The woman stood up so he could hear her better. She was very short and very pregnant. "It's his birthday. She probably just wanted..."

"If she'd shown a little more concern at the time." He stopped at looked at the ground, mourning his lost son. "But no, she had her brilliant career to worry about." He waved the balloon, which Sam could see was attached to a small blue stuffed bear. The balloon waving around is what's distracting the mourners.

notices the groundskeeper. He was wearing a freshly laundered uniform out of respect for the deceased, standing a discrete"Finn!" The woman was angry now. "That's not true and you know it! It was a random genetic mutation. He was never meant to be. You were both young and healthy nobody knew there was anything wrong. The doctors never told her to slow down, take it easy. She did everything they told her to do. She could have spent those eight months sitting home knitting booties and the result would have been the same."

"That's why I love you Rach." He pulled her close. "You're going to be such a great mother."

"I'm going to be the best mother I can be but I refuse to play mommy wars. I can drop out of my career for a few years. I couldn't have two years ago, just like she felt she couldn't back then. That doesn't make me better, just different." She hugged the tall man. "Life doesn't come with guarantees that every thing's going to be perfect. Sometimes life can break your heart. And sometimes the second act can save your life."

"That's why I love you Rachel." He repeated.

They turned to walk to their car, noticing him for the first time.

"Get rid of this." Finn said, roughly showing the teddy bear into Sam's hands.

"Sure thing." He put the animal in his truck as he heard the mourners from the funeral start to leave.

That funeral totally screwed his timetable. Everybody loved Grandma Tinsely so much they stood around crying and consoling each other for what seemed like hours. By the time they left and he got the grave covered it was almost time to lock up. Unfortunately she was there, sitting under the tree holding the teddy bear Sam had placed back on the grave the minute the other couple was out of sight.

"We'll love you forever, we'll like you for always. As long as we're living our baby you're be." Lance Andrew Hudson, born and died the same day, two years ago today.

* * *

Sam walked up to her and coughed. She ignored him. "Excuse me?"

She looked up, her brown eyes glazed with confusion.

"Excuse me but we're about to close. I need to lock the gate?"

Besides nodding, she didn't move a muscle.

"I have to make my rounds but then..."

She nodded again and watched the tall groundskeeper drive off in his truck.

Sam locked the front gate, just to make sure nobody else came in, and drove the grounds. As he suspected, she was the only one there, still sitting under the tree.

"I'm sorry, ma'm, but you really have to leave now." He said firmly.

"What?" She looked up with a blank expression. "Oh! Right, you have to lock up. I'm so sorry for keeping you late."

"No problem." But she's not standing up. Shit! She's not standing up. "Do you need any help getting to your car?"

"Car?" she looked like she'd never heard that word before. Like she didn't recognize the gray BMW parked ten feet away. Shit, he can't let her drive around like that and he didn't want her here.

"Or I can call a friend, or a cab?" He pulled one's of the cemetery's business cards from his pocket. "Yes, I'll do that and you just call this number to get your car back. I'm here at night so don't worry if we're closed." He took her arm and led her to his truck.

The caretaker's house. She woke up on the sofa of the caretaker's house, clutching Lance's teddy bear. Mercedes Jones slowly sat up and looked around, wondering where the caretaker was. She heard the whir of a ceiling fan and the sound of a guitar coming from outside through the open French doors, the curtains blowing in the breeze. She sat in the dark room and listened to him play. She should be terrified, waking up, locked in a cemetery with a guy she doesn't know. The name on his shirt says "Evans" and that's it. He could be an escaped serial killer for all she knows, God knows he's got the perfect place to dispose of a body. She should be in a full fledged panic attack by now. And meds, she hadn't taken her meds tonight. Normally she needs a handful of pills to get to sleep. Meds and white noise generators and a bedtime ritual involving red wine. Now it's...she looked around for a clock. Finding none she declared it o-dark-thirty. Damn her stupid habit of not wearing a watch! Her purse! Her phone had a clock. There it is, on the table under the window. From this spot near the window she could tell he was singing as well as playing.

_She put him out like the burnin' end of a midnight cigarette  
She broke his heart he spent his whole life tryin' to forget  
We watched him drink his pain away a little at a time  
But he never could get drunk enough to get her off his mind  
Until the night_

_He put that bottle to his head and pulled the trigger  
And finally drank away her memory  
Life is short but this time it was bigger  
Than the strength he had to get up off his knees  
We found him with his face down in the pillow  
With a note that said I'll love her till I die  
And when we buried him beneath the willow  
The angels sang a whiskey lullaby  
_

_The rumors flew but nobody knew how much she blamed herself  
For years and years she tried to hide the whiskey on her breath  
She finally drank her pain away a little at a time  
But she never could get drunk enough to get him off her mind  
Until the night_

_She put that bottle to her head and pulled the trigger_  
_And finally drank away his memory_  
_Life is short but this time it was bigger_  
_Than the strength she had to get up off her knees_  
_We found her with her face down in the pillow_  
_Clinging to his picture for dear life_

_We laid her next to him beneath the willow  
While the angels sang a whiskey lullaby_

"Did you write that?"

His unwanted house guest was standing in the doorway, looking at him sitting in the hammock in the backyard.

"No." he answer abruptly, putting down the guitar. "It's Brad Paisley."

Mercedes had heard the name before but had never been able to pin a particular song to it. "Oh. It's nice. Sad but life's sad, you know?"

"I know. " He stood up. "Are you feeling better?" She nodded. "You'll need a ride to your car."

"Yes, thank you." she hesitated for a moment. "Would you like a drink? I mean have a quick drink somewhere near here? As a thank you?"

"I don't drink." She looked insulted. "That's not a judgement of you. I just don't drink and have to get up early tomorrow." He started walking towards his truck. "I'll give you a ride to where you car is."

"I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble. It's just today is..."

"I understand. Believe me I understand. And it's no trouble."

"You've lost a child?"

"No, but I've lost people and anniversaries are tough. Unfortunately it doesn't necessarily get better with time." He opened the truck door, signalling her to get in. Thankfully she did.

* * *

She disappeared for a month before resuming her regular Wednesday routine, so it was odd seeing her car parked in front of the diner down the street on a Thursday afternoon. He was on his way to the laundromat, Mike could lock up for him, Sam didn't have to be on the premises 24 hours a day. His last girlfriend, Lucy hadn't found his place the least bit romantic so he'd occasionally sleep over at her place. That is until his lack of ambition, the way she saw it, put an end to that relationship. Easy come, easy go. Lucy was starting to grate on his nerves anyway.

She was sitting in the car, drinking a cup of coffee and reading papers. Odd, she's an odd person he thought, rapping on the car window.

"Yes?" she rolled the window down, just a crack.

"I just wanted to say thank you."

"For what?" How do I know you her look said.

"For the letter you sent my boss. Mr. Chang at the cemetery?"

She looked at him more carefully. She'd never noticed how green his eyes were, and how sad. Not sad exactly, but old. The eyes of an old soul as her grandma would say. Eyes burnished by experience because he wasn't very old, probably no older than she was. Mercedes smiled politely and lowered the window completely. "Evans! Sorry, I didn't recognize you because every other time I've seen you you've been in uniform." She smiled again and he noticed something strange about her smile, something he couldn't put his finger on. "No, it was no problem. You were very helpful. Thank you for being so kind when I was so upset."

"Well, thank you. People are quick to pick up a pen when they're mad about something but very few people say thanks."

"You're welcome. Well, I'll see you next week."

"Were you there today? I didn't see you."

"No." Her smile disappeared. "No, only Wednesday. Doctor's orders."

"Oh." That didn't exactly make sense but he watched her turn back to her paperwork.

He started to walk away but stopped, thinking about her sitting in her car a block away from the cemetery. He turned back.

"Are you waiting for somebody?"

"Me? No, I'm just...just...here."

"You offered to buy me a drink that time. I drink coffee."

"Ummm." She searched desperately for a plausible excuse to say no and found none. "Okay, coffee it is."

He didn't get a chance to see her well that night, he started to make a cup of tea and when he turned around again she was curled up on the sofa, sound asleep. Sitting across from her in this diner he took a good look. She was dark, with a smooth milk chocolaty complexion. Her hair was short and natural, a mass of soft curls. Between her wire-rimmed glasses and lack of makeup except for a smear of lipgloss she was pretty but there was nothing glamorous about her.

"I was away on location. I'm an actress, did you know that?"

"Yes. When Mr. Chang gave me a copy of your letter he acted like the name should mean something to me so I looked it up."

"So you've never seen my show?"

"No, I don't have a TV. I know that sounds pretentious" He smiled for s split second, a smile so quick she almost missed it. "but where I live is small, you saw it, and I don't have room for one."

"Okay. Really, you haven't missed much."

"But you got an Emmy. That's something."

"How do you know that if you don't have a TV?"

"Internet." he answered.

"Oh. That Emmy is due to my writer more than anything else."

"You have your own personal writer?"

"I wish. If I had my own personal writer maybe my life wouldn't be so screwed up. I'd make him rewrite the parts I don't like. No, the show was popular the first year, then the ratings tanked. Honestly? The writing was shit. The scripts read like they just threw random sentences in a blender and the actors have to read whatever was on the page. It didn't matter that you're supposed to be Jewish. If the script says you're begging for five Christmas presents the writers would scream at you if you suggest they substitute eight Hanukkah presents, like you're the idiot. They were professionals, you see, and they figured nobody in the audience would notice the difference. Well, the audience did and switched off. So they brought a new writing team, each writer was responsible for only 4-5 characters and they worked as a team, not as individual writers producing totally unrelated scripts. My writer is a genius." She stopped talking and stared at the TV blaring on one side of the diner.

Sam glanced over his shoulder at the couple on the screen, a couple beaming over a small baby. "It's a girl!" the announcer bleated.

"You know them?"

"I used to." She dragged her eyes away from the screen and focused on the man in front of her. He wasn't tall, as in Finn tall, but average height. The proportions of his face was off, especially the mouth, but it was just enough to make his face interesting. He had longish blond hair that frequently fell in his eyes and was pulled into a short ponytail in the back. "Exs. Ex-husband. Ex-friend."

Sam looked again. He drew a blank until they showed a picture of them standing up. Seeing the husband towering over the woman made him recognize them as the couple from the cemetery.

"She was your friend?"

"Friend's a strong word. I know her." She twisted the coffee cup in her hands. "Rachel's no homewrecker, I managed that on my own. It was all over by the time she showed up."

Should he ask what happened? He choose not to, there was plenty in his life he didn't want to discuss.

"So now Finn has everything he wants." She said with a bitter laugh. "Perfect wife, perfect baby, perfect life."

"But I thought your baby died from some random genetic thing?"

At first she wondered how he knew that. Then she remembered there had been plenty of speculation at the time. Internet. "That's what they say, but the counterargument's staring you right in the face."

"Aren't you being kind of harsh on yourself?"

She stared at him with iced-over eyes, and then recovered. "You done with your coffee?" She started digging through her purse for money. "Do you need a ride or something?"

"No, I'm just on my way to the laundromat. Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome." She smiled and Sam could see what was strange about it. Her smile never reached her eyes.

* * *

Whiskey Lullaby – Brad Paisley

Again, check out chapter 4 of "There Will Be Cake" by Wildfire280 to see why I'm so hard on Finn.

This will be quick. Three, maybe four parts and I've already written 2.5 of them.


	2. Chapter 2

"Evans! How are?"

Sam looked at the black woman sitting at the table he's filling water glasses at. Nothing, he's getting nothing. The blonde and Latina with her both look up at him.

"Mercy! Mercy from the cem...from the other night? You helped me out?"

"Ohhhhh!" the Latina said with a leer.

"Not like that!" She laughed.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn't recognize you. Your hair was different." It was short and she didn't wear makeup. Today her hair was long and she was wearing a ton of makeup. Add in dark glasses and it's no wonder he didn't recognize her. "How are you?"

"Fine. Just fine. You work here too?"

"No, just filling in, helping a friend." He picked up the next glass and filled it with water. "The owner was short staffed and I'm helping out."

"Oh, Well, nice seeing you again."

"Yes, nice seeing you again." She turned back to her friends.

"Who the hell was that?" Santana asked as he walked away.

"A friend." She left it at that, not wanting to explain how she knew him and why she didn't know his first name.

"Nice ass but you can do better than a waiter."

"Weren't you a waitress when we first met? Besides," Brittany noted. "he's no ordinary waiter."

"I was child, he's a grown man! And he's a busboy! That's even worse." Santana said dismissively.

"That's not what I mean San. I meant he's not ordinary, there's something...I can't describe it but there's something different about him."

San looked at Sam working on the other side of the room. Nope, nothing special there. "What ever happened to that football player?" She asked Mercedes.

"Silk!" Britt announced.

"What?" both women asked.

"Silk. You know how it's strong and fragile at the same time? Back in the olden days they made stockings and parachutes from the same stuff. Silk. I just got my hands on some old silk saris? Not sure what I'm gonna do with them but..."

Now she was rambling so Santana returned to her point. "Shane wasn't it? He wasn't half bad looking and loaded. You could do a lot worse."

"He's boring! And besides, I'm not willing to share a man with half of LA."

"You ain't getting any younger." Santana pointed out. "Just saying."

"Really?" Mercedes stood up. "Well in that case I guess I'd better run right over there and take a number. I'm sure you two can manage without me." She put money on the table. _"'_That ought to cover it."

* * *

**Later that night**

Sam stood in front of the small house in Venice Beach, dreading his next step. He took a deep breath and rang the bell.

"Hello?" the intercom crackled and buzzed.

"Hello. It's Evans from the, from the restaurant tonight. You left a bracelet there and my boss sent me here to return it."

"Damn! You're always rescuing me aren't you? Push the gate when you hear the buzzer."

He walked up to the front door holding the gold bracelet with a blue bear charm hanging from it.

She opened the door, inviting him in. Sam didn't want to go in but she walked away from the door and there was no furniture in this small hallway he was standing in. His only options were to walk in or drop the bracelet on the floor. He walked in, shutting the door behind him.

"I know you don't drink but water? Juice?"

"No. Thank you but no. I have to get going." The sound from the tv distracted him. "Is that The Avengers?"

"Sorry. I've got this thing for cheesy 60's spy flicks." She reached for the remote.

"No, leave it on. I used to love this show. There's a cat that lives at the cemetery? I call her Mrs. Peel." This was the first time she'd ever seen Evans look happy about something. He had a very nice smile she noticed. It took him a minute to resume his normal vague expression.

"It's a DVD. Can you play them on your computer?"

"Yes."

"Then fine. We can watch this one together and you can borrow the rest."

* * *

Sam woke up in a panic. Where the hell was he? Not home, that's the only thought that ran through his head. Not home. Not home. Not home. Not home and not Lucy's. Fuck! He kicked off the blanket that was covering him and looked around the sparsely furnished room. Jones. He fell asleep at her house. On the sofa, not in her bed. Okay, having slept with her would have been infinitely worse. Just calm down. He headed for the front door, stopping when he saw the burglar alarm was set to go off if he opened the door. Instead he knocked on the door he saw a sliver of light under.

"Come in!"

He would suppose this was a dining room, it was next to a kitchen and there's a chandelier in it but under the chandelier is a treadmill. It's, he looked at his watch, 3 am and she's running on a treadmill.

"Don't you sleep?" Damn! Stupid, irrelevant and nosey at the same time.

"Obviously I sleep. I guess you want to leave." She stared straight ahead at a video monitor showing some European city. "One minute and I'll be done." He watched her run. Her hair was short again and she was wearing spandex. She's an attractive woman, he'd never noticed that before. He also noticed she seemed to be in a bad mood, the first time he'd noticed that too. Usually she's polite, overly formal if anything. Maybe she was tired, couldn't sleep with a stranger in the house. God knows he can't.

"So much for Barcelona." she hopped off the treadmill and ran to the front door, stopping to disarm the system. "You don't need the code to get out, just make sure the gate clicks behind you. Thanks for returning my bracelet."

* * *

**Wednesday**

She was waiting at the gate for him to open first thing in the morning.

"Thank you. You forgot the DVDs, can I leave them at your house?"

"That's okay. I'll pick them up when I cut near him."

"I can't stay long. I have to go out of town again." She said nervously.

"For long?"

"Two months. Listen, can you do me a favor? No, never mind, it's crazy. Listen, I'll just drop them off before I go." She looked at him expectantly, hoping he'd read her mind.

"I cut there twice a week. I can tell him you said hi."

"I'm sorry for being so rude the other last night."

"I've seen people behave much worse when they were upset."

"That's no excuse. You went out of your way to return that bracelet and I. I always..."

"I have to go up there anyway. It's not a problem."

"Thank you."

* * *

**Two months later**

He was closing the gates for the evening when she pulled up.

"Please? Just for a minute? My flight was late and..."

"I'm sorry, but I can't tonight." His eyes looked even sadder than usual.

She switched off the engine. "You know?" Good job, Mercy, you screwed up again!

"Not that it's any of my business but why didn't you tell me that's an empty plot?" he asked softly.

She looked at him, her eyes tearing up. "Yes, it's empty but it's all I've got! I know I've got to stop pretending. I know that! I know that! Everybody tells me that!" She started to get out of the car, changed her mind and started the engine. "Fine! I'll come back tomorrow."

"Wait a minute." He opened the gate, waited for her to pass and locked it again. "Just try to make it quick."

The sat on the bench under the willow, she stared at the ground, he stared at the skyline of LA.

"I went to the same high school as them. I spent four years crushing on him. I was fat then, very fat and he was the top of the high school pryamid. He was tall, handsome, a football star. He had this beautiful blonde cheerleader girlfriend. I mean, he had everything. He also dated Rachel, his current wife, back then. She was the star of the drama department. So anyway, after highschool she went East and I came West. Finn ended up out here and we started dating and eventually got married. Then I got lucky and landed a tv show. The first year I was fat and sassy."

He looked at her. "Basically what I did was play your stereotypical fat and sassy black girl. It wasn't very challenging but a job's a job, you know? Then, when we got decent writers my role was expanded, about the same time I realized I was pregnant. I felt conflicted, he was right about that. It was terrible timing. I wanted to have it all. Maybe if I'd taken better care of myself, of Lance. Maybe..."

"Or maybe shit happens. Most of us wouldn't be here if our parents waited for the absolute perfect time to have a baby. Not to be rude but did you ever consider professional help?"

"Professionals tell me I'm spending too much time visiting an empty grave. Amateurs, professionals. They all agree on that." She looked at the marker, marking nothing. "The hospital took care of the funeral, at the time that's what I thought wanted, just to have the whole thing over with. Some friends came over and packed up Lance's stuff. I shouldn't have done it that way, but I just wanted to forget. As if that was possible. That was another thing that Finn pointed to showing I didn't really care. We got this, this marker, last year on his birthday. It was the last Finn and I did together as a couple. We left here and signed the divorce papers."

"Why here? Isn't there some other place that's special?" She didn't answer. "You live near the ocean, why not there?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right." She stood up, visualizing all the happy families at the beach. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. I'll figure it out. Can you please unlock the gate?"

He reached for her hand, touching her for the first time ever. "I'm sorry, Miss Jones. I'm really sorry for snapping at you. Today's an anniversary and I expected to spend it alone."

"I'm sorry, Evans. Thoughtless. It was thoughtless of me to barge in here like your sole purpose in life is to cater to my every whim. I'll go."

"Sam. My name is Sam, I'm from Memphis and you don't have to go. I'm the last person who should be telling somebody to seek professional help. At least you go places. I'm practically a hermit. Or a zombie's more like it. It's no wonder I ended up living a cemetery, among the dead. That's what my last girlfriend, she was my first girlfriend in a sense, said."

"First girlfriend?"

"I have what you might call intimacy problems." It was her turn to stare. "Not what you think. I can handle the physical part just fine. It's the emotional part I fail at." He watched a plane trace a line across the sky. "Richer, better, health. That's what my mother choose. She was young and pretty, she had my younger brother and sister to take care of. She did what she had to do to get us out of the shelter. Unfortunately she couldn't bring my father along. After my dad died I went to live with her and my stepdad. I couldn't take that for long so I started stripping and screwing my way West. I had a series of generous girlfriends, very generous girlfriends. They had to be generous, and I mean in the financial sense, and they had to be single – or at least willing to say they were single. Other than that I didn't care. In truth I was a whore."

The cat that lived at the cemetery wrapped herself around his leg. "Then I found this job and I like it here. Or as Lucy said I'm hiding here. I met Lucy at a museum, not a bar, which was a first for me. She was the first girlfriend that wasn't work related and I actually liked Lucy as a person. It was strange, dating. I'd never really done that before. We'd have these heart-to-heart talks, mostly she talked and I listened, and in the middle of one I told her about my past. My mistake." He laughed ruefully. "She was all 'poor baby' at the time but things changed. You know what pissed her off, the final straw? I corrected her once. Not in public or anything but we were at this party with her friends and she's going on about economic theory and she was wrong. Wrong in that she was confusing two different schools of economics. In the car on the way to her place I tried to explain the difference. She couldn't believe it – she graduated from Yale and I dropped out of highschool. Her parents spent hundreds of thousands paying tuition and I learned just as much on the Internet. She couldn't believe a gardener knew more about it than she did. That's what she said – a stripper turned gardener! Up until then she called me a landscape architect. But that night it came out, what she really thought of me."

"She probably didn't mean it that way."

"When people say 'I didn't mean that' they really mean 'I didn't mean to say that out loud'. They were obviously thinking it or the words wouldn't have been in their heads in the first place. Once the words are in your head it's just a matter of time before they get blurted out."

"You said she was right about some things."

"A stopped clock is right twice a day." Sam smiled briefly, his dad used to say that all the time. "I am hiding here but being a gardener, or technically a grounds-keeper, is nothing to be ashamed of. Maybe the stripper part is but not the gardener part. Lucy didn't know about the whore part. Just like your husband was right about your being conflicted about the unexpected pregnancy, which is perfectly normal, but wrong that you did or didn't do something that caused your son to die, to imply that you didn't want Lance to live. That was unforgivable." He leaned back for a better view of the sky. "At least in my book."

"He was really upset when he said that." She said in Finn's defense. Finn's grief was a raging fire that didn't stop until there was nothing left to burn. Mercedes' grief was a slowly rising river that she used every acting trick she knew to deny, divert, deflect. She was terrified of Finn's inferno, he was infuriated by her icy calm.

"Better or worse, richer or poorer, sickness or health. Easy enough to say, isn't it?" She didn't answer. "You just don't go there with people if you love them. You don't go around looking for somebody to pin blame on when shit happens. You deal with it. Of course who am I to talk?" Again with the ironic laugh. "My father didn't have to blow his brains out but I still blame my mother for what happened. To this day I don't speak to her. According to the professionals that's the root of my problem. That is if you want to call it a problem, which a lot of people do." He stood up. "I need to get up early tomorrow. There's a funeral first thing in the morning I have to set up for."

"Goodnight Sam."


	3. Chapter 3

"Champagne?"

Mercedes looked away from the ocean she'd been staring at for the last 30 minutes and turned towards the waiter.

"Hello, Sam. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Champagne?" he pushed the tray he was holding towards her.

"No thank you. So how are things at the cemetery? I haven't been there in a while."

"I noticed that. Did you get the DVDs back? I mailed them a couple of months ago."

"Yes, I got them back. Thank you for taking care of that." She turned back towards the ocean.

"Why aren't you in there, enjoying your party?"

"Crowded, hot and stuffy. I guess it's anti-social ducking out on a party given in your honor. You know what? I don't give a shit." She looked up at the sky. "You know Polaris, the north star?"

He pointed to it.

"Right. You know what a star is? It died millions of years ago but it's still shining, still showing the way. You asked me once if there was some other place to remember Lance? That's it. Polaris." She reconsidered the offer of champagne and picked up a glass. "I'm watching these lectures on astronomy I never had time to go to college and I would have never thought of the internet if it wasn't for you. Thanks for that."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You're acting different."

"It's that obvious? Nobody else has seemed to notice." She smiled, a breathtaking dazzling smile. "Listen, if anybody asks tell them I went for a walk."

"I'll go with you." he offered.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"What's the worst thing that could happen?" He put down the tray of wine glasses. "God forbid somebody has to fetch their own champagne. I'll go with you."

"You're right." she said, walking along the moonlit beach, not caring that the bottom of her dress, the studio's dress actually, was getting soaked by the waves. "I am different. You've never seen me happy, really happy, have you? My character, on the show, is leaving. More their idea than mine but I'm starting to see it as an opportunity."

"She, your character, didn't commit suicide did she?"

"Oh, look at you, Mr. I don't watch TV!" she laughed.

"I said I didn't own a TV. I saw a piece of your show Thanksgiving. I've made a couple of changes lately and one side effect was Dave, my sponsor, invited me to Thanksgiving dinner."

"Your sponsor?"

"It's an AA thing. I started going to meetings again." He walked alongside her, avoiding the water. "Anyway, about the dinner. There were a lot of people there, I think Dave picks up strays, and the TV was on. I didn't understand exactly what was going on because I don't know who the characters are and what the relationships were but at the end you picked up a pair of scissors and went all O happy dagger."

"No, this doesn't end like Romeo and Juliet. In this case the most unkindest cut of all if a haircut. The big chop." Sam looked at her, puzzled. "My hair. She ran her hands through her long straight hair. This isn't my real hair. It's a weave and I hate it. The stylist likes it this way but Artie, my writer, is fitting a cut into the script. I mean, I'm leaving anyway and it fits with something that those old brain-dead writers wrote the second year of the show." She stooped to pick up a pebble and flung it into the ocean. "Soooo," She asked with forced casualness and that heartbeaking smile, "what did you think of the singing? They don't usually have singing on the show."

"Well...I told you it was Thanksgiving? Okay, the TV was on but only a couple of the kids were really watching it,. Then you started singing. And the guy you were singing with, when he went "If you were my woo woo woman" every woman in the room squealed. The men were drooling, the women were screaming. It was an awesome performance."

"Yeah, a lot of people liked that scene. I used to be a singer, back when I first came here. I never much money at it but it did get me discovered. My coffeehouse performance of Freebird went viral."

"Lynard Skynard?"

"That's the one. Some asshole dared me. Shit, you can't pick up a guitar in a coffeehouse without some jerk screaming for Freebird so of course I know it. He bet me $10 a minute. I played all 14 minutes of that song on an acoustic guitar. Now that was easy money!"

He tried to imagine this short dark woman singing the anthem of good ole boy rock and roll. "So what are you going to do for a job?"

"Whatever I want cause I'm free as a bird now and this bird you cannot change." She giggled. "No, really, that's not an immediate problem, at least the money part. I was never into stuff for the sake of stuff. Before the show we lived pretty frugally and that didn't change much. After the divorce I rented a small place and left it pretty much unfurnished. When I found out I'm leaving I cut back even more. I borrowed this dress from the costume shop. Britt's going to kill me if I return it wet. I'm not sure what I want to do next but when this job ends I'm moving away from LA and if I'm careful I can afford to do nothing for a couple of years."

"Really? Back home, which I forget where you said home was?"

"I'm from Ohio but I'm not going there. Oregon. A small town on the coast. You ever been to Oregon?"

"No."

"Well, when you asked me about why I live in Venice Beach I thought about it. The ocean, I like the ocean. What I don't like is the people. It's loud all the time here. You can't sleep with the windows open because of the noise. Yachats, the place I'm going, is quiet. And it's a short flight from Portland to LA. You should see the sky there. Staring at the sky is why I started watching those astronomy videos. I wanted to know what I was looking at. There's where I've been when I'm not working, why I haven't been to the cemetery."

"At first, I was glad you stopped coming. That whole conversation made me uncomfortable. I mean, the whole point to being a recluse is avoiding conversations like that one. It also made me want a drink, but I got past that. That's why I called Dave. Then I started to wonder if you were okay. That made me think maybe I should call my mother."

"So you called her?"

"Yes. It was unfair, what I said about her the other night. It's not like my dad lost his job on a Monday and she was gone by Wednesday. She tried, she really did, but he just couldn't cope with not being 'the man' in the relationship. The provider. She couldn't cope with him drinking away the money she worked so hard as a hotel maid to earn. Okay, maybe she wasn't technically single when she met my stepdad but they were separated by then. She was happy to hear from me, she's been worried. I should have called years ago, so she wouldn't have to worry. I might go home and visit. Evidently I have another brother now."

"Really? That's great. When are you leaving?"

"I didn't say I was ready to go home yet. Just thinking about it."

"You know, if you're worried about the ticket I can give you some of my miles. I have more than I'll ever use and you've helped me more than all those therapists."

"No problem. I have plenty of money."

"You do?"

"Advantage of being a hermit. Nothing to spend money on. I didn't take this job for the money." He confessed. "I knew you would be here."

"You did?"

"Yes. Like I said, I wondered if you were okay."

"That's it?" she asked coyly.

"Yes."

"So now you know." She retreated further into the waves, dancing by herself. Music floated towards from the house behind them, Norah Jones singing_ Come Away With Me._ Any normal man, seeing a beautiful woman dancing on a moonlit beach to Norah Jones's husky voice, would know exactly what to do. But Sam hesitated. He'd gone through a lot of effort to see her again and here she was, seemingly happy to see him again. But all he could do was stare at her as the song ended and she walked out of the water towards him. She stopped directly in front of him and looked at him, expectantly. Then she smiled at him and walked to the steps leading up the the house.

"Britt's going to kill me if this dress is ruined." She squeezed the ocean from the bottom of the dress. "She's in charge of wardrobe on the set. Actually, she can probably remake it so it looks better than it did when she got it. A freaking wizard with a needle and thread. Or maybe they're use is in a scene where I'm sitting down." Now she was wiping the sand from her feet, looking around for the shoes she'd left behind. Sam listened to her babble. About rocky beaches in Oregon, not like the sandy beaches here. About sea lions and tidal pools. About snow, just enough to be interesting. Not blizzards like Ohio, not every day the same like here. About how he's going to be okay, one day. How he's going to be happy again, maybe it's just going to take him longer than it took her.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, you were happy before and you can be happy again. It's just taking you a long time is all but it'll happen."

"How do you know that?" he asked, sitting on the step beside her.

"Lance. Not like Lance talks to me, that would be crazy, but...The other night I had a dream. Not a dream really but I remembered something that I had been blocking out. I remembered something that happened the day Lance was born. They figure he died a couple of days earlier because he was fine at my check-up the week before. Labour was the same as for any other mother, he was so close to full-term, It was 8 hours of agony and we both knew there was no baby waiting at the end. Afterwards they asked if we wanted to hold him. I said no, I just couldn't. But Finn did. He held Lance and rocked him and sang to him. I couldn't. Then it was time to say goodbye and the nurse asked if we wanted to give him a bath. I didn't want to but Finn insisted. He said it was the last thing I could ever do for Lance. I was furious that he was forcing me to do that, after all that had happened and still he was making demands. That's the first thing I remembered about that day, how I focused my grief into anger onto Finn. Then I remembered how beautiful Lance was. He was perfect. Looking at him, if you didn't know better...He smelled good." Mercedes smiled at the memory. "Like any other baby. Once I held my beautiful baby boy. Thinking about that made me happy." She stood up and looked down on Sam. " Then, right before I woke up I saw you. You were young, Little League of something, and your team just won. You were so happy, jumping up and down happy. I just think, hope, that you can be happy like that again."

"Mercedes!" a voice from the house called. "There you are! We were just about to call 911. Are you okay?"

"Fine. I'm fine, San. Be up in a minute." She started up the steps. "Good luck, Sam."

"Great, we want you to sing for us." the voice responded.

"You know I can't say no to that!" She laughed and started heading up the steps. Soon he heard her voice floating out towards the ocean.

_Just because everything's changing_  
_Doesn't mean it's never_  
_Been this way before_  
_All you can do is try to know_  
_Who your friends are_  
_As you head off to the war_  
_Pick a star on the dark horizon_  
_And follow the light_

_I'll come back_  
_When you call me_  
_No need to say goodbye_

_Now we're back to the beginning  
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet  
But just because they can't feel it too  
Doesn't mean that you have to forget  
Let your memories grow stronger and stronger_  
_Til they're before your eyes_

_You'll come back  
When it's over  
No need to say good bye_

_I'll come back_  
_When you call me_  
_No need to say goodbye_

* * *

The Call - Regina Spektor_  
_

That's it for the penultimate chapter. One more and I'm done.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for all the reviews and alerts. It took too long but here's the final chapter.

* * *

The house in Venice Beach had been very stark and modern, a typical newly constructed townhouse in a gated community. This house in Oregon sparkled in the late afternoon sun, a storybook cottage tucked away on a hillside. You had to be buzzed in though an iron gate to reach the house in LA. This house was surrounded by a low wooden fence, a railing more like it, that was broken only by an arbor covered with vines. Green beans, Sam noticed as he walked under the arbor. And what looked like a flower garden from the street was covered with herbs and vegetables on closer inspection. He mounted the wide porch and listened for a moment to someone playing the piano inside. Then he knocked on the door. Through the glass insert in the front door he could see someone moving around.

"Just a minute!" a melodious voice called.

"Sam!" Mercedes threw open the door. "It's so good to see you again." She looked past Sam at the young boy standing next to him "And you must be Bohdi!"

"Yes ma'm." the dark-haired boy smiled and shook her hand. He had typical Asian features, olive complexion, glossy black hair and almond-shaped eyes but the eyes were usual in an Asian face. Bright green like Sam's eyes. "Most people just call me Bo." the boy drawled in a Tennessee accent.

"Well then Bo it is. Come in, come in."

* * *

"I'm not disturbing you, am I?" Sam asked.

Mercedes look up from her position sitting crosslegged on a blanket spread on the floor of her front porch, staring at the moon's reflection on the the ocean surface.

"No, have a seat. Sorry about the lack of porch furniture. Next year." She waited while Sam settled in. "I'm just wondering what it would be like, to suddenly have a son."

"It's hard to think of him as my son, it feels more like a younger brother." He listened to the sound of car very far away. "I hadn't actually talked to my mom for years but I did send her postcards every now and then. Just so she'd know I was alive. I mean that's not much, is it? So I'd send her a postcard with no return address just so she didn't worry too much. When I finally called her, right before I saw you at that party, she kept pushing me to come home." He thought about the boy asleep in the guest room upstairs.

"When I lived with my dad there was little, hell no, adult supervision. Tina, that's his mom, lived in a group home so nobody paid any attention to what she was doing either. We were in the same Spanish class with this incompetent teacher. We figured we could learn more watching Spanish soap operas than we could from Mr. Schuster. So that's what we did. At first we watched soaps, then we drank beer while we watched TV. Then we skipped the TV and went straight to sex and beer. I kinda lost track of her after I went to live with my mom and switched schools. I didn't last long there because my mom and step-dad treated me like a kid, wanting to know where I was and what I was doing. I was a kid but I wasn't used to being treated like one. That's why I left, I was a grown man you see and shouldn't have to answer to anybody." He laughed at that, he was only 16 at the time. "Tina wasn't looking for me because she was madly in love and couldn't live without me but because she needed my signature for the adoption paperwork. My mom was looking for me too and they found each other. My mom has custody."

"How old is Bo?"

"Nine. Tina picked his name. She lived with them, taking care of Bo, for the first six months, Then she left for college."

Mercedes listened to the rain falling on the tin roof, wondering what that felt like for Tina. "And what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Right now we're on vacation. Grand Canyon, Mount Rushmore, the Black Hills, the ocean. Luckily he likes nature. I'd hate it if he wanted to go to Disneyland or something. To tell you the truth I don't know what I'm doing but he's pretty easy-going."

"How is he taking all this?"

"He's excited. Or maybe that's just his personality. I don't really understand him to tell you the truth." Sam had a hard time understanding how someone could be so happy all the time. "Anyway he's happy to be going to Portland."

"And what's in Portland?"

"Tina. He's met her lots of times before. He thinks of her more like an older sister than a mother, but it's no secret she's his mother. That Bo's part Korean is pretty obvious. So he likes her but she's always came to Memphis to visit him, this time he's going there. Tina's dream was to be a chef and she owns a vegan restaurant. I talked to her a couple of times since I found out. She loves him, thinks he's a great kid, and she likes the current arrangement. She's happy my mom took over so she could still see him. They get along, my mom and Tina. Tina likes the way my mom is raising him, mom likes the way Tina doesn't butt in."

"Then what?"

"I don't know. After Portland Bo decides where he wants to live, with me or with my mom. It's up to him. If he wants to stay with my mom then I'd move to Memphis, close to them. If he wants to stay with me I'd have to find a place to live."

"Where? The last time I visited LA they said you quit because of a family emergency. I guess they meant Bo."

"Right. That place is too small for two people. Also it's one thing for me to live in a cemetery, but a kid living there? Besides there's schools to worry about."

"Did you ever consider a small town?"

"They don't even have a school in this town." He said with a frown.

"But kids live here. Enough to fill a bus to the school 20 minutes up the road."

"I don't know about that." He said doubtfully.

"Well, it'll work out. You've always managed in the past."

"But it was always just me. This is different, he's not a cat. I've never been responsible for anybody other than myself."

"You'll figure it out." She touched his arm lightly. "I know you will."

* * *

**Four months later**

"Hello?" Mercedes answered the phone ringing in the middle of the night.

"Mercedes?" a frightened voice on the other end asked.

"Bo! Is something wrong?"

"It's my dad, he tripped on the steps and.."

"Okay. Hold on and I'll be there in 10 minutes."

Mercedes drove the two miles to Sam's apartment in 5 minutes. Half an hour later they were sitting in the hospital emergency room.

"This is all my fault." Bo said, near tears. "All my fault."

"Bo, didn't I always say somebody was going to get killed on those steps?" She squeezed his hand. "Be glad I exaggerated."

"Yeah, but he was always nagging me about leaving stuff laying around. And we were both tired already when I suddenly remembered my science project was due. I meant to go back and pick up that book but instead I fell asleep. That's why he was doing laundry so late, because helping me with the science project threw him off schedule. If I hadn't left that book laying on the steps..."

"These things happen. Your dad would be the first to say that. Besides." she hugged Bo, "It's just a broken leg. Your dad's going to be fine. Didn't the doctor just say that?"

* * *

"Why are we stopping at your house?" Sam asked. He was tired, in pain and just wanted to go to sleep in his own bed.

"Cause you're staying here for the night." Mercedes said firmly.

"I can't stay here." He answered just as firmly.

"Listen Sam, it's too late to argue and I'm too tired to carry you up a flight of stairs. You're spending the night at my house. Period. End of story. If you want to break your other leg tomorrow have at it but you'll have to wait until tomorrow."

"I can't stay here." He insisted.

"Please Sam?" Bo whined, and he's not typically a whiner. "I'm so tired. We'll figure it out tomorrow. Please?"

"Please Sam, as a favor to me? I'm going to LA for some auditions so I could use a housesitter."

"It's not like there's a lot of crime around here." he grumbled.

"True, but there's the garden. I need somebody to pick and eat all that stuff."

"What did you do with all that food before we showed up?"

"The garden was there when I got here. I normally give the extra away to neighbors or some of the kids I teach. I always wanted to learn how to can but never got around to it. Point is the house is going to be empty anyway. Point is, you're staying!"

* * *

Two months later Sam and Bo were still there. Bo liked Mercedes' house better than the apartment - she had a yard, a piano and a friendly dog next door. Mercedes liked having people in the house when she was out of town, and having somebody besides herself to cook for when she came back. Sam enjoyed working in her garden and surprisingly enough found himself looking forward to her return. He never thought he'd want to live with another person but he'd adjusted to Bo and his 'collections' of rocks and god knows what else and being around Mercedes was as easy as breathing. Their relationship was more like roommates, strictly platonic, but she seemed happy with the setup, seemed to enjoy their late night talks on raising a preteen and auditioning for tv roles. That's where she was now, auditioning, but she promised to get back in time for his birthday next week.

This Saturday morning Sam was laying on the sofa, drifting off as he listened to Bo practice the piano. Bo and Mercedes both loved music and they both had eclectic taste. Right now Bo was fascinated with old time music and was practicing something called The Crave by Jelly Roll Morton to play for Mercedes when she got back. Jazz, ragtime, stride. Sam couldn't keep tell the difference between the piano styles.

"Got it!" Bo yelled, leaping from the piano to answer the knock at the door. He had a key and Mercedes told him he could come over and use the piano whenever he wanted, but was going to miss this house. It was smaller than the house in Memphis but it was cozy and Mercedes was fun when she was around. And the closer he looked to easier it was to see that she was the only woman his dad seemed comfortable around. He remembered the time they ran into Max and his mother at the mall. Max's mother practically asked him out on the spot and his dad nearly freaked. Bo was trying to figure out how to get those two together but Sam was frustratingly noncommittal on the subject of what happens once he's out of the cast. Time. Bo was sure Sam would figure it out, given enough time.

"Grandma!" Sam heard Bo scream.

* * *

Mercedes watched the Evans family at play. The twins, Stevie and Stacey, were the age Sam was right before his family fell apart. Although they had grown up in much more restrictive financial circumstances than Sam had all three children were delirious with joy to be together again. Sam's mother definitely knew how to raise happy children, that was for sure. The two blondes and their raven-haired nephew splashed in shallow water. It was too cold for swimming but warm enough for wading, that is if you're too young to know better. Sam and his mom knew better so they sat talking at the picnic table away from the shore.

Santana described her relationship with Sam as all the disadvantages of marriage without the sex but Mercedes was pleased with the way her life was turning out. Sam was her closest friend and she was happy to spend those travel miles she would never get at chance to use to fly his family out for a visit. Knowing she was responsible for making Sam laugh, something only Bohdi had been capable of, was worth it. She loved Sam, body and soul. Maybe he wasn't couldn't return that love, maybe he'd never be able to. She hated to think it but maybe some other woman would be 'the one'. That gave her chills, thinking some other woman would be capable of making him happy, or maybe it was the rapidly cooling night air. She rubbed her hands against her bare arms, trying to get some warmth. They could play down here as long as they wanted, the fireplace back home was calling her. She started towards the house.

"Hey!" Sam limped up the shore as quickly as they could on his new walking cast. "Wait up!" She waited until he caught up. "Where are you going?"

"I'm freezing." She rubbed her arms again. "I figured I'd go make hot chocolate or something for when you guys come home." She could tell from his expression he had something on his mind so she waited.

"Thank you so much for everything you've done for us." He said finally.

"You're welcome but the miles were going to expire before I could ever use them all. And even so, you don't have to keep thanking me, I wanted to do it."

"Not just that. You let us take over your whole house!"

"Well that's the advantage of living in a small town with friendly neighbors you can barge in on. And the overlap was only two nights. Your family is leaving tomorrow and then you'll have to put up with me again." She didn't ask if he was moving out, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to spoil this night.

"I can't remember the last time anybody went out of their way to do something for me and it just comes natural to you." The warmth of the hand he placed on her shoulder made her forget how cold she'd been minutes ago.

"Well, it is your birthday after all. And okay? Truth? Now that you can handle steps again I thought..." She kicked the sand with her toe. "I didn't know what you planned to do next. If you were going to get your own place again. You can stay as long as you want but I know how you're kind of particular about things and maybe it feels like everything has to be my way. I tried to make sure you guys felt comfortable here but I'd understand if you wanted to leave." She looked up at him. "I just wanted to make one more happy memory. So don't think I'm not getting something out of this."

"Okay? Truth?" he said with a laugh, "In the last ten years, this is the first place I've ever thought of as home. And every time I think you can't get any better you outdo yourself. You've been good to me and Bo. Too good. Come join my family." He held out his hand.

"Sure. Just let me get a sweater and I'll be right back."

"No, you don't understand. I want you to be my family."

"Are you asking me?" Wait, what was he asking her?

"Yes. I'm asking you to marry me." He laughed again. "I'd get down on one knee but with a cast I don't think that's a good idea."

"But Sam," she said with a nervous laugh, "we've never even kissed! How do you even know..."

"I plan to correct that right now." Sam had kissed a lot of women in his time, for a lot of different reasons. He'd kissed them because he was bored, or depressed, or wanted to get laid. At the end he kissed them because he wanted their money. Now, for the first time in his life he was kissing a woman because he loved her, the first woman he'd ever wanted in more than the physical sense. This was the one that would go down as 'first kiss' because this was what a kiss is supposed to feel like. He stared into her deep brown eyes while fumbling for a small box in his pocket. "I know usually there's a ring involved but Bo thought this would be good too."

"Bo loves this." She looked at the green sea-glass necklace Sam was holding out. She remembered the day the three of them had been walking down the beach with Bohdi and he'd found that piece of glass. He'd offered it to her at the time and Mercedes thought it just his Southern charm. Save it for a special girl she'd said.

"We both love you more. So?"

Mercedes stared at Sam, speechless. "Okay." she said finally.

"Yes!" He yelled, pumping his fist in the air. "She said yes!" he yelled to his family on the beach. "Can I ask you something else? Bo thinks we ought to get a chicken coop. Is that alright with you?"

"Chickens?" Did he just ask her a question about chickens? "I guess we can get some chickens.""

"Great! He'll like that. One last thing, can we get married sooner rather than later?"

"Sure, there's no reason why we have to be engaged for months and months. And you're already living here, so..." Sam cradled her face in his hands and kissed away the end of that sentence.

"I meant right away. Like right now."

"Right now?" Damn he's such a great kisser, so good that she's hearing things. "You mean RIGHT now? As in right now? Today?"

"Yes, right now. I want to sleep with my wife and I want to do that now."

"Can't you sleep with your fiancé? I promise you we'll get married soon."

"Sorry, the only woman I'm ever going to sleep with is my wife. Mercedes Jones Evans." He kissed her again.

"But Sam, you need a marriage license." She wondered if you could get a marriage license at 7 on a Friday night.

"I have one, back at the house..."

She noticed everyone else had already run back up to the house, passing them as they walked slowly home. "You have one already? How did you know I would say yes?"

"I just hoped you would. I wanted you so much."

"I need a dress!" It had taken months with experts to pick her wedding dress. Maybe that was unnecessary, she could wear something off the rack, but she couldn't get married in what she was wearing. This purple sun-dress was chosen strictly because it was clean.

"You can't look any more beautiful than you do right now." He gave her another one of those distractingly delicious kisses.

"But still, I can't get married without my family being here. And you never even met them. Suppose..."

"I've met them." He said with a sly smile. "I couldn't ask you to marry me without getting their permission first. Now I know where you got your good looks and sweet disposition."

"When? How?" She noticed they had walked back to her house and the front walk was lined with tea lights in mason jars while the house was dark. "Who did all that?"

"The kids. This was Stacey's idea. She spent the week hunting down glass jars. She called this an ambush wedding."

"But my family..." Then she noticed someone sitting on the front porch holding flowers. "Momma!"

* * *

**Four years later**

"And they got married that very night, on this very porch. And they lived happily ever after."

"But what about me?" the brown-haired little girl snuggling next to Sam on the porch swing asked. "What about me?"

"What about you?" He tickled his young daughter.

"I'm not in the story." She complained.

"Yes you are! You're the happily ever after part because one one year later, to the very day, they had a little girl and her big brother named her..."

"Eden! Me!"

"So you're the most important part of the story."

"The most important part!" She agreed, rubbin her eyes with her chubby fists.

"Eden Andrea Evans who is going to bed." He picked her up and carried her into her room.

"Not yet!" she whined. "I wanna wait for mommy and Bo."

"Bo's flight was late, sweetie. Mommy and Bo will be here when you wake up."

"Not now! I wanna go to piano camp next year, too."

"Yes, now." he said firmly. "And Bo's not going to camp next year. We'll need both of you to help us next summer."

"Can I name the new baby, daddy?" her eyelids drooped. "Like Bo named me?"

"Sure, sweetie. You take a look at the baby and tell us what the name should be."

He tucked her into her bed, turned off the light and started singing softly.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these broken wings and learn to fly_  
_All your life_  
_You were only waiting for this moment to arise._

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night_  
_Take these sunken eyes and learn to see_  
_All your life  
__You were only waiting for this moment to be free._

From experience Sam knew Eden was within 10 seconds of falling asleep. One more verse and she'd be down for the night. They both heard the car slam and Bo's chattering voice.

"Momma!" Eden jumped out of bed and dashed to door. Sam chased her to the front door, as excited as she was. His family was home again!

* * *

**The End**

Blackbird – The Beatles

Bohdi means enlightenment in Sanskrit. Eden means delight in Hebrew.


End file.
